


We passed the Setting Sun

by Scared_Beings_in_the_Dark



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Angst, Babies, Blood, Character Death(s), F/M, Family, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Rape (off screen)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-02
Updated: 2015-05-21
Packaged: 2018-03-28 17:44:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3863959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scared_Beings_in_the_Dark/pseuds/Scared_Beings_in_the_Dark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A bunch of Carisi ficlets. May or may not be related to the other stories I've written for this character. Should feature everyone from the Squad as well as a generous helping of original characters created by me for my L&O:SVU stories. Updating will be sporadic.</p>
<p>Ratings and tags will be adjusted based on the content. Please read individual chapter notes for more information.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. That's Just the Way It Is Baby

**Author's Note:**

> Overall title is from "Because I Could Not Stop for Death" by Emily Dickinson.
> 
> Chapter notes will be sectioned off from the rest of the text by a line or more commonly a series of dashes. Each individual ficlet will be marked with "Fin" to signal the end of that story. If a ficlet requires more than one part, it will be marked as such, with a "To Be Continued..." at the end. Stories marked with *NTBC* are not to be continued by me unless otherwise stated.
> 
> Thanks for taking time to read this.

Summary: Sonny's not particularly fond of babies. They’re tiny, messy things. But, maybe along the way, he can learn to like a few of them.

 

Title is taken from "Just the Way It Is, Baby" by the Rembrandts.

 

Notes: Features a character invented in [_just a bang-bang rolling off your tongue_](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3842947). No spoilers. Fluffy. Hopefully humorous. Minor character death ( _jabbroyt_ spoiler).

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

 

\--

The first baby Sonny holds is his niece.

 

She's a ten pound, wrinkled red thing that more resembles a tomato than a person.

 

He looks the father dead in the eye, and says, "She looks just like you."

 

Gina hates him forever and he doesn't get to see his second niece until she's almost three. The tomato does indeed look like her father, but she also doesn't look like a tomato anymore, and instead questions why Sonny calls her such.

 

"Eh." He shrugs, examining Bean, looking for any defects 'cause oddly, they share the same father, although Bean looks more like Gina. It's her longest relationship to date.

 

Sadly, it only lasts three more weeks.

 

\--

The second baby Sonny holds promptly spits up on him. He tries to hand him back to his mother, but she either ignores his desperate glares, or she doesn't care that her demon child is giggling at the damage he inflicted on Sonny's shirt.

 

"So, what nickname do you have for him?" His cousin laughs maniacally. So, she is both ignoring him and doesn't care that he's two seconds from putting the baby on the highest shelf and seeing if she kills him quickly or slowly for it.

 

"You don't want to know," Sonny responds, distractedly, and she finally takes the bundle back.

 

"Three months," she says proudly.

 

"Goodbye," Sonny says.

 

\--

The third baby Sonny holds is Noah. By the time he holds him, though, Noah is more of a toddler. Noah neither resembles a fruit and-slash-or vegetable nor throws up on Sonny.

 

"Don't think I don't have my eye on you," he warns the kid anyway. Noah calmly looks at him and blows a raspberry. Sonny raises an eyebrow. "So it's like that, huh?"

 

The kid simply crawls away, heading for the mess of foam blocks. Sonny follows him.

 

He's amazed the Sarge let him babysit, but he guesses all her other options were exhausted. It was kinda a last minute thing.

 

Noah doesn't seem to mind, and by the end of the night, he's learned a new word—"Onion!" Which, okay, isn't necessarily a bad thing. Except Amaro had confided to him that Benson was still trying to get him to say, "Mama."

 

"Don't tell your ma I taught you a root vegetable instead of working on your pronouns," he tells the kid after an impromptu bath for the tyke. Note to self, don't leave baby powder anywhere close to the floor.

 

Noah sleeps soundly for a few hours while Sonny cleans. And good God, how many toys did the Sarge splurge on? Sonny remembers growing up with three sisters who had everything and nothing but imagination for the boy.

 

The Sarge finds him half-asleep, lying on the couch, feet planted on the floor, one arm over his eyes, the other curled around Noah on his chest, sleeping peacefully after a terrible nightmare about onions.

 

"Hey there," the Sarge whispers, reaching for Noah. "I thought you were sleeping through the night now."

 

"Yeah, sorry about that. Mighta been my fault," Sonny says softly, scratching at his head. He sits up, grabbing for his jacket and his shoes. The Sarge shakes her head, points at a blanket draped over the couch.

 

"Stay. It's late and you look tired. Noah wasn't any trouble, was he?"

 

"Is he ever?" Benson smiles at that. "Anyway, thanks, but no. I really oughta go."

 

\--

By the time he gets to holding Bella's baby, and is he ever glad he did get to hold the tiny human, he's lost count of how many babies his family has forced him to smile at.

 

Dominique stares up at him with a sorta smile, although Sonny remembers reading somewhere that babies can't really smile until six weeks and they don't really see objects further than eight inches from their faces until after their first month.

 

"I wish Dad was here," Bella says sadly. And Sonny doesn't need that reminder. Dad had a heart attack three weeks ago. He's gone. Ma's so lost without him.

 

Speaking of, Ma slaps at his arm lightly, saying, "My turn." Sonny gladly transfers Dominique to her, watching as she smiles her first real smile—Ma, not the baby—cooing down at the baby. What is it with babies and baby talk? The kids seem to understand him fine and he never coos.

 

Gina and Theresa both stand awkwardly in the corner, Theresa looking terrified as Ma approaches her with the new baby. She reacted the same way with Gina's two brats. Or so Sonny's been told.

 

And speak of the devil. Tomato and Bean bounce into the room, dragging their poor father with them.

 

Sonny was surprised as the next person when he heard he and Gina were back together.

 

Tommy, asleep in the only chair, snorts awake when Sonny pokes him. Bella's labor had officially lasted twenty hours, unofficially it'd been closer to three days, and since Bella couldn't sleep, Tommy certainly couldn't.

 

"Good job," Sonny says, and he means it. Tommy really straightened out his life.

 

"Thanks, Sonny."

 

"Hey," Bean says, jumping at Sonny and wrapping her arms around him so she doesn't fall off. Sonny raises an eyebrow at her. "Did you ever hold me when I was a baby?"

 

Gina looks horrified, but Sonny believes in honesty. "I didn't get to." Doesn't say he didn't really want to either. "Now, get off me, Bean. Your dad looks like he needs a hug."

 

"So," Ma says once everyone's had a chance to hold Dominique, Sonny twice. "When's your turn to give me a grand-baby?"

 

Sonny stares at her wide-eyed. "Three of them aren't enough? Why don't you ever ask Theresa when she's gonna have kids?"

 

Theresa smacks his arm so loud even Bella looks shocked.

 

"The difference, Sonny, is I chose not to have children because of my career. You, you can find a nice girl and pop out a few whenever you like."

 

Sonny chokes on his suddenly dry mouth. "Excuse me?" he says faintly.

 

Bella kicks everyone out. "Except you, Sonny," she calls when he troops after Ma. "You make me laugh. And you're the only one who'll stand up to Theresa."

 

"Yeah, and that'll come back to bite me in the ass."

 

Bella laughs, as if to prove her point. "Come on, you haven't asked. Why'd I name her Dominique?"

 

"For Dad," he says, shrugging. "It's what we all think."

 

"Yeah, but you forget, there's this great guy I know. He's also named after our dad."

 

Sonny stares at her. "Wow," he breathes. So maybe Dominique is a little different than all the other babies. Noah's different too. Doesn't mean he's anywhere near ready for one of his own. Maybe someday, but someday is far enough away that even squinting doesn't bring it into focus.

 

"Yeah, okay."

 

"Love you, Dom."

 

"Love you, too, Bella."

 

~  _Fin_  ~


	2. Shot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Sonny gets shot, no one realizes it at first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Slight blood, bit of language.
> 
> No spoilers.
> 
> Happy reading.

**Coda to[ _just a bang-bang rolling off your tongue_](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3842947)  
**

 

\--

When Sonny gets shot, no one realizes it at first.

 

He's running high on adrenaline and doesn't feel it. He's wearing a dark jacket so he doesn't see it either.

 

It isn't until they're back at the precinct, trying to unwind after the excitement that anyone notices anything wrong. And, still, at first, they don't.

 

Everyone recalls the shot that started the shootout.

 

Rollins draws big circles in the air with her hands. "I thought it was coming at me," she says, waving frantically, bouncing off Amaro's desk every time she manages to sit. She'd been standing next to Sonny until she hadn't been. For a long moment, he'd thought she'd been killed, until she lifted her head and stared at him when he touched her ankle.

 

Amaro is more reserved, sinking into his chair and then spinning. First he goes clockwise, then counterclockwise. Sonny gets dizzy just watching him. He has an introspective look on his face, staring into space. Every so often, he surfaces to say, "We're okay. We made it."

 

Fin, the one who actually hit the shooter, non-fatally in the leg, is sitting on Sonny's desk and he keeps reaching forward to pinch at Sonny's arms.

 

"Quit it," Sonny grumbles. His jacket is too heavy for him to actually feel the pinches. But, since they got back and some of his adrenaline bled off, he feels cold, so he keeps it on.

 

Benson is holed up in her office with Tucker and Dodds, the men finally emerging on the third hour after the shooting.

 

By this time, Sonny feels more than a little cold, his arm is starting to ache—he blames Fin's pinches, at first—and he is lightheaded and woozy every time he stands, which is whenever someone says, "New Guy, coffee!" And, man, they love saying it. They're not actually drinking it, each of them just hoarding a small trove of half-full cups.

 

Dodds stops by Sonny and Amaro's desks, takes in Amaro holding onto Rollins' arm to keep her from jittering right out the door when she wandered too close to him, Fin's crossed arms and set face, and Sonny shaking and pale.

 

"Carisi," he says sharply. "Piss test, now."

 

Sonny blinks at him. "May I ask why?"

 

"Come off it, Dodds," Fin says, just as sharply. "He got shot at today. We all did. It's just the drop in adrenaline."

 

"So why is he still wearing his jacket?" Dodds snaps his fingers and Tucker materializes behind him. "Tucker, get him a piss test. I think he's on something."

 

Tucker, sharper eyed than all the keyed detectives in the room, shakes his head. He takes Sonny by the arm, right above where it's hurting, and he squeezes gently. Sonny hisses and tries to pull away.

 

"No urine test for him," he says. "Hospital instead."

 

"Hospital?" Sonny squeaks. "Why do I need a hospital?" Tucker, that bastard, slides his hand down a touch, and Sonny crumples, curling around his arm and whimpering in a way that would be exceedingly embarrassing if he wasn't suddenly in real, honest-to-God pain.

 

"Let go!" someone shouts, and Sonny feels Tucker release him. He straightens, glaring at the IAB officer. Tucker holds up his hand.

 

It's red.

 

Blood.

 

Sonny wavers on his feet, woulda fallen if Amaro had grabbed his shoulders. When did he move?

 

But, more importantly, "I'm bleeding?"

 

"You've been shot," Tucker says. "My guess is during the shootout this afternoon."

 

"Brilliant deduction," Fin spits at him. He helps Amaro hold Sonny up. Together, they support him as they start walking him toward the exit. Tucker and Dodds trail them while Rollins runs to get Benson.

 

"I swear, I'm gonna take the bar," Sonny threatens. "I will not get shot again."

 

"Lawyers still get shot," Fin soothes, and Sonny snorts at him. "But, maybe not as much as us."

 

Sonny doesn't remember the ride there because he—fainted, Rollins insists. Just like she insists Fin kept his head in his lap and stroked his hair. "He cares about you," she crows, unaware that he's plotting her demise as she giggles at him.

 

"I hate you," he says, to give her some idea of the coming hell. Never let it be said Sonny Carisi didn't warn ya.

 

"You love me," she responds. "You took a bullet for me."

 

And there it is. Neither of them remember, but apparently Sonny shoved her to the ground, which is why she was dazed, and instead of striking her in the chest, it only grazed his arm near his elbow. Sonny saved her life. And she thinks it means something.

 

He snorts. "If I knew that's all it took to get you to like me, I woulda got shot long ago."

 

An apprehensive, almost excited, look comes over her face. "Really?"

 

"No, you thick-head. Getting shot sucks."

 

Surprisingly, she looks relieved, laughing ruefully. "Well. I guess I gotta let you recuperate now. Anyway, Fin said he'll be by soon to braid your hair."

 

"Get outta here." He throws a pillow at her.

 

"No, I'm serious. We're all donating a flower so he can make you look pretty again. You're kinda washed out and icky-looking."

 

"Losing blood does that to a body," he murmurs, watching her pace his room. She's got that need-to-spit-something-out-before-I-burst look stuck on her face. "Come on, say it."

 

She glares at him for a moment, then, sighs, handing him back his pillow. Finally. "Thank you for saving me. Thanks for taking one for the team. And thanks for not holding it above my head."

 

Sonny frowns at her. "I wouldn't. This is not something to make you feel guilty over."

 

"I know, that's why. Just. Thank you." She all but runs from the room, pushing past Fin, who is carrying a small basket of flowers. Sonny groans and covers his eyes.

 

"I thought she was joking," he says.

 

"Nope. Gotta make you look presentable for your commendation."

 

Sonny flips him off, and Fin just laughs.

 

"You're not touching me. Rollins already has enough ammunition for a year."

 

~ _Fin_ ~


	3. Memoria

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sonny collects obituaries of cops killed in the line of duty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short. Very short.
> 
> Sorry.
> 
> Warnings: see end notes.

 ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

 

 There's a drawer in Sonny's desk that no one goes into.

 

It's where he keeps obituaries of all the officers killed in the line of duty.

 

Morbid, yes, but he'd said, "Someone has to remember," and cut out that kid who'd been shot on the corner protecting the working girls.

 

There's maybe a dozen, two dozen, and then.

 

One more.

 

Sonny doesn't add it though.

 

Nick does.

 

He sets it and a photo on top.

 

Closes the drawer and locks it.

 

Goes outside to hold an umbrella and try to stomach the 21 Gun Salute.

 

Someone has to remember. But it's not Sonny anymore.

 

~ Fin ~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Major Character Death. Not tagged for spoilers
> 
> This wasn't supposed to be this way.
> 
> Sorry, again.


	4. Just Coffee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Benson wants Carisi to take her comment about Staten Island seriously, so she sends him to Bayard Ellis's office. Bayard Ellis is more appreciative of this development than he initially thought he would be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers for 16x21.
> 
> Warnings: minimal language.
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing recognizable!

\---

Bayard Ellis drops his coffee. It splashes warm over his legs.

 

He swears under his breath, but the  _thing_  that made him lose his grip is already on his knees scrubbing at the puddle of coffee with his tie, of all things.

 

"Up, Carisi," he barks. "What are you doing here?"

 

"Benson sent me over," Carisi replies, bouncing onto the balls of his feet and rubbing at the back of his head with a sticky hand. "Actually, sent over is the wrong way to say it."

 

Ellis shakes his head. "How soon are you leaving?"

 

"I'm not." Carisi shrugs, looks apologetic. Removes his tie and stuffs it into his jacket pocket. "She said you can have me."

 

Ellis takes a deep breath, counts to ten, does it again, and still has to think 'Do not get mad at the person in front of you.'

 

"And it's not even my birthday," he quips dryly, as soon as he's able. Which is nearly a full three minutes later.

 

Carisi grins, sticking out his hand to shake. "Sorry, Counselor. I know I'm not who you wanted."

 

"Never," Ellis agrees. Refuses to touch the hand.

 

"But, Benson did say, you have complete control over what you want me to do or where you want me to go. Her only stipulation was you can't send me back."

 

"How fortunate for her."

 

At that, Carisi finally looks a little hurt.

 

"Never mind," Ellis says. "Just go get another coffee. You owe me that at least."

 

"Yes, sir," Carisi says. "Any special way?"

 

Ellis frowns at him. He's just so  _eager_. Maybe that's why Benson decided to inflict this half-cop, half-lawyer on him.

 

"Just get coffee, Carisi, it's not that hard."

 

"Actually it is," Carisi retaliates. "See, you could drink it black, or you could take milk, or sugar, or maybe you like lattes."

 

"Just coffee, Carisi. Go!"

 

Carisi snaps his mouth shut and nods. Off he scurries, and Ellis watches him go, winces as he thinks it'll probably not be the last time, not for a long time.

 

He shakes his head again and moves to his office. First order of business, call Benson and see why she thought he needed an overeager gofer.

 

She answers on the second ring, cheerily or cheekily, or both, chirping, "Benson."

 

"Olivia," he says, digging through his desk until he can find the aspirin he keeps for days such as these. He shakes a couple pills into his palm, evaluates them, and puts them back. "I need to know the reason you decided I should be tortured."

 

Benson, damn her, just laughs. "I saw how Carisi worshipped you. I figured you might get a few good miles out of him before sending him on."

 

"What did he do to piss you off?"

 

"Nothing." Benson sounds surprised. "He just. You saw him! He'll do well for you."

 

"He doesn't do well for you?" Ellis interrupts.

 

"He does," she admits, sighing. "Okay, the real reason is Carisi is studying law at Fordham. I'm tired of Barba complaining about his little legal interjections, so I thought you might be able to break him from that habit."

 

"You do realize the most common phrase he used with me was 'Am I right' when giving  _me_  those legal interjections?"

 

"So?"

 

"So, I think you're stuck with that habit. He's not a puppy for you to send to obedience school, and I am not obedience school. If Barba has so much trouble with Carisi's legal insights, just give him a gag order. I'm sure he's good at following instructions."

 

Benson laughs at that. "No, he's not. It takes a few times for something to sink in, and half the time he doesn't listen."

 

"But there must be a reason he's still at your precinct."

 

"Yeah, I haven't been able to figure it out yet myself."

 

There's a quiet knock on Ellis's door. Standing there, looking for all the world as if he might honestly cry is Carisi. He holds a cup of coffee out to Ellis before backing away quickly.

 

In his ear, Benson asks, "Bayard?"

 

"Sit, Carisi, I'll deal with it in a minute," he says, but Carisi shakes his head.

 

"Like I said, you've got executive decision over where I go. And you can't send me back."

 

He turns on his heel and marches away.

 

Ellis swears softly. "Listen, Liv, I've got to call you back."

 

"Yeah," she says, understandingly. "Hey, how much did he hear?"

 

"That's what I need to find out." He hangs up and follows Carisi.

 

He finds him at the elevator, impatiently punching at the call button.

 

"Carisi, wait."

 

"No," Carisi says. "A gag order? As in don't speak at all?"

 

"As in don't say something that doesn't need to be said."

 

Carisi faces him. Gone is the expression of sadness. Instead, all Ellis sees is naked fury. "How's this for 'doesn't need to be said': I quit."

 

"You can't quit," Ellis says. "You only just got here."

 

"And you don't want me any more than the last place, or the place before that."

 

"You were a surprise, Carisi, but I'm willing to give you a shot."

 

"No, you're not," Carisi says quietly. "I'm not a puppy who needs obedience school. And you're not an obedience school. Look, just tell Benson I ran away. Tell her I made a mess and you needed rid of me. Tell her anything. Anything at all. I'm sure she'll believe you."

 

The elevator pings and the doors slide open. Carisi steps inside, and Ellis reaches out to grab his arm. "Listen, Carisi, you've got good instincts. You just spend too much time caring what others think of you."

 

"No I don't," Carisi says, jerking his arm. Ellis tightens his hold.

 

"So why were you trying to impress me, hmm? Why do you try to impress Barba or Benson?"

 

"I don't," Carisi mumbles. "Let go of me!" He tugs harder, and Ellis lets him pull free. Carisi overbalances and stumbles against the handicap bar. When he rights himself, he cocks a hip, hand settling onto it. It's a defense mechanism, Ellis sees.

 

Carisi glares at him. "I'm gonna go sit in the lobby. I'll be there the rest of the day. Let me know at the end of business what you want from me."

 

Ellis doesn't hear, 'I'm still gonna quit on you.' He hears, 'I'll think about what you said. I still might hate you right now, but I'll think about it.'

 

"That's all I ask," he says, stepping back so Carisi can push the button for the lobby. Carisi stares at him, a mask falling over his features, blanking them.

 

It won't be easy, Ellis thinks, and also, maybe he does need another warm body to run down evidence.

 

Still, the kid  _does_  have good instincts. He doesn't understand why Benson didn't want him anymore.

 

Her loss, he shrugs, sitting back at his desk and pulling out a transfer request. He'll keep Carisi for 'a few good miles' and see if he really can't be housebroken. There's potential, and he's eager. A good combination. Ellis can teach him patience.

 

"Oh, the places you'll go, kid, you'll move mountains," he says out loud, picking up his desk phone and punching in the number for the front reception desk. "Clarissa, send Detective Carisi to my office. Tell him I've made a decision."

 

~ Fin ~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: The line Ellis says about Carisi is from Dr. Seuss's "Oh, the Places You'll Go!" Obviously.
> 
> Tag to Perverted Justice just because.
> 
> Happy reading!


	5. So Right It's Wrong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SVU is working on a case. What if Carisi crossed the line, but even worse, what if he was right but no one would listen to him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Don’t own
> 
> No spoilers. Case-related horror.

\---

 

Barba walked into the squad room to find it almost completely empty.

 

Odd, he thought, looking around. There were a few officers at some desks, but otherwise no one was running folders to and fro, the white board was clean, and the noise level was fairly low.

 

The only familiar face he saw was Carisi, hunched over his desk.

 

“Detective,” he said, coming to an almost parade rest next to Carisi’s elbow. “Where is everyone?”

 

“Day off,” Carisi mumbled, not looking up from a file he was reading. He had a pen against his mouth, and to Barba’s disgust, he put the end of it in his mouth and chewed on it.

 

“Everyone?”

 

“The case,” Carisi explained, except, no, that wasn’t an explanation.

 

Barba gave him a blank look, which would have worked if Carisi had looked up. He sighed. “What case?”

 

“The Devon Case,” Carisi clarified, pen back in his mouth for another quick chomp.

 

“Oh,” Barba said. He hadn’t worked on that one. It had been kicked into Family Court. Two boys who beat and nearly killed their parents.

 

Would’ve been tried as adults if they weren’t seven and nine.

 

“And you’re still here? Weren’t you the one who uncovered what really happened?”

 

Carisi laughed bitterly, finally looking up, and Barba almost recoiled from the heat in his anger-filled, red-rimmed eyes. “I pissed off the Sarge so she punished me by taking away any days off I had coming. Instead, I’ve gotta catch up on paperwork.” He bent over the file again, leaning entirely too close just to circle a block of text.

 

“That’s...” Barba trailed off. Changed tactics, “What did you do?”

 

Carisi barked another laugh, and this time Barba did recoil at his anger and disgust. “I said the parents deserved it.”

 

Barba blinked. “Why did you say that?”

 

“Mr. and Mrs. Devon had a dungeon. It was a BDSM dungeon, one they convinced everyone had been used in a healthy, adult, sexual relationship.”

 

“Except?”

 

“Mrs. Devon was on painkillers so her statement was inadmissible.”

 

Barba made his living reading between the lines. He swallowed down his growing sense of horror and leaned closer to Carisi. “What did she tell you?”

 

“There’s a girl. Older than the boys. Maybe fifteen.”

 

“Carisi.”

 

Carisi stared up at him, mouth twitching, eyes brimming. “They haven’t found her yet. The boys are mute. Can’t write either.”

 

“How did that get suppressed?”

 

“Judge saw two boys who refused to speak, saw two parents who were willing to forgive, didn’t see what wasn’t real.”

 

“And you did.” Carisi nodded sharply.

 

For the first time, Barba noted the paperwork Carisi was working on. “You’re trying to find the girl.” Not a question.

 

Carisi nodded again. “Mrs. Devon confided that they had another house they sometimes used. But, I can’t find any record of it. I was thinking maybe a relative had willed something to them.” He shook his head, frowning as he rubbed at his eyes.

 

“I can’t do it alone, but I can’t get anyone else to help me.”

 

Barba pulled Amaro’s chair around to Carisi’s side of the desk. He grabbed half the files and another pen, thankfully not masticated, from the pen holder.

 

“I’ll help you. I’m not working on this case, so I’m just another set of eyes.”

 

“Legal help?” Carisi said, numbly, staring at Barba as he circled a word he thought could be important.

 

“Obviously. A legal perspective who’ll help you get Mrs. Devon’s statement admitted, should it come to that.”

 

“Thank you, Counselor.”

 

“ _De nada_ ,” Barba said.

 

 

***NTBC** *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, no. Don’t like this one. Supposed to take place after a particularly stupid mess up by Carisi that leads the Squad to distrust everything he says. Didn't really turn out that way. So, everyone's just OOC for no good reason. Sorry about that.
> 
> If anyone wants to take it over, just ask.


	6. The Honorable Judge Damien Prince

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Back row, the man third from the left,” Carisi murmured.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was part of a larger story I was working on, but the directions diverged, so we have this little snippet.
> 
> Case Background (not the same as the previous one): Two high school boys are accused of raping one of their classmates at a party. One of the boys claims Carisi acted inappropriately with him—he didn’t, but still. The father of one of the boys starts spreading rumors about Carisi, and one night, a man forces Carisi into his own apartment.
> 
> Disclaimer: Don't own.
> 
> Warnings: Rape (off screen)
> 
> No spoilers

\---

 

“Back row, the man third from the left,” Carisi murmured. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I can do this.” He buried his face in his arms and his shoulders started shaking. It would appear that he was crying.

 

The Honorable Judge Damien Prince stared in confusion at the witness. “Detective Carisi?” he ventured.

 

Barba placed a hand on Carisi’s shoulder, and Carisi flinched but let it stay.

 

Prince tried again. “Detective Carisi, would you like to step down?”

 

Carisi’s answer was muffled but it seemed in the affirmative. Prince waved a hand at one of the court officers.

 

“Dominick,” Barba said softly, “you’re trying to tell us something. I need you to state it clearly. We can’t infer anything.”

 

Carisi looked up. His eyes were red-rimmed and watery and his face was reddened and tear-stained. He looked decidedly unhappy. “The man sitting three from the left in the back row of the jurors is the same man that attacked me in my apartment.”

 

Barba reeled back but kept his hand on Carisi’s shoulder. Carisi put his head back down. Prince waited for an explanation. When none was forthcoming, he said, “Mr. Barba.”

 

“Detective Carisi was…detained in his apartment a month ago. It was why he missed the initial deadline for testifying. What Detective Carisi has just said is—”

 

“Reserve Juror Number One is the man who detained him. I understand that. Why the word ‘attacked’?”

 

Carisi mumbled again, and Barba moved his hand back and forth, almost in a soothing manner. “Detective Carisi was tied to his bed and raped multiple times by this man and other people this man brought into his apartment.

 

“We were unable to locate him,” Barba continued, gently squeezing Carisi’s shoulder. “I suggest calling a continuance, your Honor, as the charges against the defendants still stand, but we need to apprehend and bring charges against this other man.”

 

“Very well,” Prince said. He motioned another court officer to join them at the bench. Buchanan, abnormally quiet and looking a little ill, stepped back to allow yet another court officer to stand at attention in front of Prince.

 

“Officers Roster and Padski, take Reserve Juror Number One into custody. Detective Carisi, Officer Johnston will escort you to your destination, you may step down.”

 

Then, Prince addressed the room, voicing rising slightly to combat the sudden murmurs. “I conclude this trial needs a continuance. Court will resume in forty-eight hours. At this time, the defendants are to be remanded into their parents’ custody.”

 

 

 

*NTBC*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, if anyone wants to borrow from this idea, have at it.

**Author's Note:**

> If you see something you'd like to use, go ahead. A shout-out would be nice though.
> 
> Additionally, if you see something you think I got from you, let me know and I'll credit you.
> 
> Thanks and happy reading!


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